


worthy of tranquility

by izzetboilerworks



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Lightly angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 22:51:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17031456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzetboilerworks/pseuds/izzetboilerworks
Summary: There's been rumors-- there's always rumors-- since the beginning of the season that Ginny was going to go somewhere.





	worthy of tranquility

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladywaffles (JaneEyre)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneEyre/gifts).



> Thank you to [outruntheavalanche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outruntheavalanche) for the beta (and making the fake tweet!) And [twentyfiveoclock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twentyfiveoclock) for the non baseball beta. 
> 
> Title is from Glad Munaiseche.

There have been rumors-- there are always rumors-- since the beginning of the season that Ginny was going to go somewhere. There have been think pieces and hot takes and _what trade makes sense for the Padres right now?_ And these are the rumors that have been circulating since Ginny returned from her injury at the beginning of the 2017 season.

And while it was a down year for her-- between rehab and limiting her innings and the careful control that the coaching staff takes with new pitchers-- it'd been impressive enough. Especially in the first half, so by the time that they were entering the All Star Game in 2017, there were a lot of articles popping up.

Brad Hand went to the All Star Game as the Padres representative, and it was well deserved. He'd even pitched a perfect inning.

And rumors that had cropped up, at the beginning of the 2018 season, when a star-studded third baseman, Nicolas de la Cruz, had joined the team.

All the talking heads were chirping about how the rotation would get an overhaul. Mike had been moved permanently to first base with Livan being named starting catcher, after winning a Silver Slugger in 2017.

There are always going to be rumors-- Mike dismisses the notifications with a flick of his finger, and dismisses them from his mind. Oscar isn’t going to nuke the team like that. They haven't positioned themselves very well, to necessitate assembling key pieces to push a championship run.

Mike wants a ring before he retires, but he doesn't want to leave San Diego. Some things aren't worth leaving.

*

Mike can't pinpoint the exact moment he had _feelings_ for Ginny. It seems cliche to say it was at first sight. But it might have been near to it, when they'd both been posturing-- him in an attempt to treat her like one of the guys and her trying to act like one.

Nothing had ever come of it, even when he thought he was going to leave, and he could nearly taste her lip gloss their mouths were so close.

But Mike had gotten distracted, had been told he was staying, and it was too dangerous. Mike knew it was dangerous, in more ways than one-- with his heart pounding wildly, he'd done everything in his power to make sure nothing untoward happened between them.

Mike hadn't gotten where he was by being entirely reckless. He had a lot to focus on.

Career, ex-wife, the playoffs.

The fact that he was thankfully, _blissfully_ staying home. The near miss made him squirrel his complicated feelings back away in the dark, maybe to revisit in the winter.

Near the end of the season, Ginny had gone down. Her injury had her flying out to central Florida for the best care money could buya, his phone calls went unanswered, and he got over it-- and he got back together with his ex-wife.

The Padres got bounced out of the playoffs in the one-game Wild Card. Mike's always hated the Giants-- Buster Posey who?-- and losing to them was like salt in an open wound. He buried himself in Rachel and alcohol and the offseason.

He texted Ginny, to make sure she was alright, but he'd withdrawn and so had she.

Moved strictly from one professional to another, and that was fine.

*

At spring training, that year, it was business as usual. It was obvious even then that Livan was going to move into the role of starting catcher, as Mike started more games at first base-- or designated hitter during inter-league play-- and Ginny drifted further from him.

She and Livan had chemistry that he wasn't sure he could touch, watching as they communicated with just a nod or a lift of the brows. Mike knew that that was how it should be. Ginny was coming into her own, getting better.

Mike had to admit she was _better_ with Livan.

And the way his throat felt like it was burning and the pain in his chest was just heartburn, he wasn't _jealous_.

*

At spring training this year, Al had told him he was going to be playing first base full time. He knew it was coming, when Salvamini had opted for free agency and there hadn't seemed to be a lot of effort to keep him. Honestly, he'd played more first base than anything else.

And Mike wouldn't admit it out loud to anyone, but his knees were thanking him for it.

He sees in tabloids that Ginny has a boyfriend, some contemporary singer-songwriter that Mike's never heard of and whose music is crap. He teases her about it, the posts of them on Instagram, the tabloids about the two of them and the story of their romance, and their secret love child. She just rolls her eyes at him and shoos him away.

Mike settles in at first base, Ginny settles into the middle of the rotation. She’s good enough that the rumors start buzzing up again.

By the All-Star Break, the Padres are nowhere near contending. Blip gets invited to the All Star Game. Life goes on-- Mike breaks up with Rachel again over the long week off, and spends most of it in Hawaii trying to figure out why nothing that's going on in his personal life is making him happy.

Mike knows that he's probably going to retire soon-- at the end of this year, or maybe one more.

*

The trade deadline looms, but Mike isn't too worried.

After all, those rumors are always there, buzzing like flies at a picnic.

*

Mike's already swiped away the _At Bat_ app before his brain registers that he saw Baker in the notification. He doesn’t think it’s Ginny. But then his phone starts blowing up, the notifications of text messages pinging to indicate that something big is going down. He doesn’t check the messages, although one of the notifications is simply from Robles, a series of question marks trails off into ellipses.

Mike opens his browser and types in Ginny’s name.

It’s right there, for him to see, and his heart drops into his stomach.

It can’t be true. Mike immediately calls Ginny, despite the fact that she hasn’t answered in ages. And he thinks, maybe, this time it will be different. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling besides out of phase.

It’s not different and she doesn’t answer.

Mike texts her.

_you weren’t even gonna tell me?_

He wonders why it hurts so much.

*

The clubhouse is solemn, sort of like someone died, and Mike knows it should be on him to bring the spark back; he’s the captain of the team, after all. He’s– resentful. But at the same time, Ginny hadn’t been here long enough for a no trade clause or for any kind of veto power. It probably wasn’t even her choice to go.

The plaque above Ginny’s locker is gone. It’s simply bare wood, like there was never anything there at all. The whole of her locker is cleaned out, like she’d never been there at all. Mike wonders if there’s ever been a symbolism so potent. The dark spaces in the locker match the dark space of his heart, where he’d removed any untoward thought with surgical precision,packed it away, and threw away the key.

He doesn’t usually get so caught up in the romanticism of baseball like a lot of people do, and most of the time trades don’t bother him. He usually barely notices them as people flit in and out of his life. Either from ravages of time, the game, of not enough attention, and people in business suits not realizing where the light on a team came from.

Brett Kennedy comes up from El Paso to take Ginny’s spot and he doesn’t know how to feel about it. He doesn’t get a say anyway.

Later, when he watches Ginny’s press conference in a Yankees jersey, sees her hair cut neat above her collar now, he has to force himself to not throw the remote through the television.

*

The Padres miss the playoffs and the Yankees are in.

Mike should do what he always does after their season falls short, go to someplace where no one can bother him and drink away the bitterness of the years catching up to him, as his chances to win it all fade like summer does into fall.

He knows he should do that. Because it's easier that way and it'd be easy to let everything else fade too.

But.

But when he's an old man, and has nothing but his memories to cling onto, when he looks around and sees that he's given his life to something that rarely ever loved him back-- he's going to regret just letting routine dictate to him.

He's been letting it get away with it for far too long.

It's easy to let words go unspoken, to let time and inattention wear down the edges of things that ended roughly, until everything is polished but devoid of the natural shape it had, once upon a time. Mike thinks that maybe he's getting sentimental in his old age.

Some things are worth staying for. He knows why he had blocked the trade at the deadline back then. He had talked himself into it, that Cleveland wouldn't be so bad, that if Lucroy didn't want a chance at a championship then goddamn, maybe he'd go. Maybe--

But he'd blocked it at the eleventh hour and it'd been for Ginny. He didn't want to leave her, even as everything unraveled in the aftermath.

Mike wonders if she would have fought harder to stay if she'd known.

He books a flight to New York.

*

Blip doesn't know how to say no to Mike, so it's easy to get Ginny's temporary address. To get to where she's staying.

He imagines she's blaring _Firework_ and singing off key as she tries to hype herself up. Luis Severino is starting the game, but Mike knows that it's a single elimination game. Everyone is on the roster, every player is going to get a chance if the situation calls for it.

Mike can imagine her nervous on the mound, Sanchez trying to talk her down. It'll work. She's good like that, she hasn't performed in a game this important before but Mike knows she's good for it.

He knocks on her door.

Ginny opens the door and her eyes light up. Mike feels like his heart is going to burst.

"I'm so sorry." Mike says.

Ginny lets him in and he pulls her into a hug.

"I can't believe you're here!" Ginny sounds excited and Mike can't let her go.

"I came to apologize. I didn't want you to think I wanted you to go." Mike's voice feels oddly strained. He isn't going to cry; his eyes burn because of allergies, the air in New York, something. Ginny wraps her arms around him too, around his shoulders and buries her face against his chest.

"I'm glad you came."

They have a lot to talk about, but there's going to be time.

*

The Yankess lose to the Tigers in the ALCS.

Mike quietly announces his retirement as Ginny signs an extension with the Yankees.

Mike's always liked New York and, honestly, he can think of another ring to put on his finger.


End file.
